


Light My Fire (Let’s Go)

by kkslover9



Series: It's the Idea of You. It Gets Me Going. [3]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: First Time, M/M, Male Character of Color, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-19 23:47:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2407355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kkslover9/pseuds/kkslover9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rapha knows that his boyfriend Cristiano doesn't want to pressure him into sex but he's unsure how to ask for it without dying of embarrassment. Until he sees how close Cristiano is becoming to Real Madrid's new signing Gareth Bale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light My Fire (Let’s Go)

**Author's Note:**

> This time with a wonderful mix, by the lovely guzmanasol!
> 
> [Jealousy (Unique in it's madness)](http://8tracks.com/guzmanasol/jealousy-unique-in-it-s-madness) from [Guzmanasol](http://guzmanasol.tumblr.com/) on [8tracks Radio](http://8tracks.com).

Rapha keeps glancing over to where Cristiano is standing half-dressed talking to Gareth Bale. He can’t hear them. Cristiano leans over so that Bale can whisper something in his ear. He looks up. Rapha meets his eyes for a second and turns away quickly. He’s not jealous. He thinks he’s better looking than Gareth Bale, if that counts for anything. He doesn’t have a ridiculous haircut, for one. Rapha looks at Karim unintentionally and apologizes silently for the unconscious association before his mind goes back to Cristiano. Then the confidence-destroying idea crawls out from wherever it was hiding: they still haven’t had sex yet. He wants to tell himself it doesn’t matter, but a “what if it does” comes out to play as well, before “Bale would probably do it” joins in. 

Just as a sinking feeling begins to settle in his stomach, a hand rests on his shoulder and his heart skips a beat, thinking it’s Cristiano (who he has been trying not to look at for the past few minutes), but when he looks up it’s only Karim.

“Are you ok?” Karim says, “You have a really serious face on.”

Rapha touches his face automatically and Karim chuckles. Rapha smiles and shrugs in response to the question.

“Do you want to go somewhere for dinner?”

Rapha smiles a little wider. His eyes wander to Cristiano as he nods his head. He looks back to Karim to find him looking at Cristiano as well and he lets out a soft “Ah” in understanding. Rapha hasn’t said anything to anyone, but between the knowing smiles and the raised eyebrows when he’s caught looking at Cristiano, he’s sure everyone knows. He feels himself blush at Karim’s reaction and he looks down at his lap.

“If you’re not busy,” Karim says.

Rapha groans softly and wishes he could stop blushing already. “No. It sounds good. “

“All right then. I’ll see you in a bit.” Karim pats Rapha on his shoulder, before he leaves him to his (not) jealousy.

Rapha sighs and picks his phone up off the bench next to him and scrolls through his contacts, hoping he looks like he’s busy. He stops at Cristiano’s number and stares, suddenly wanting to text him, to ask to see him. He knows Cristiano is busy, and doesn’t want to sound too needy. He tries to tell himself it’s ridiculous to think that, but he’s never convinced. Besides, was he really going to build up the courage to ask Cristiano to have sex with him?

Someone drops down noisily on the bench next to him. Rapha’s head snaps up and he’s face to face with Cristiano. He turns over his phone hastily, out of habit. It strikes him as exactly the childishness he was trying to avoid, but it’s too late and all he can do is try to control his blush. 

“Messaging someone important?” Cristiano raises a questioning eyebrow.

“It’s nothing,” Rapha says, schooling his expression back to neutrality.

Cristiano smiles softly. “Are you bored with me already?”

Rapha glances around self-consciously. He thinks everyone knows, but he’s not trying to confirm their suspicions. No one is paying them any attention. Rapha looks at Cristiano, who is still smiling. He takes a deep breath and takes in all the beauty before him. He can’t believe he’s lucky enough to get to kiss that face.

“I was going to text you,” Rapha says. “I haven’t seen you in a long time. Well, I mean properly. I haven’t seen you properly.” He winces at his own rambling.

“Does that mean you miss me?” Cristiano says, playfully..

Rapha meets his gaze. “You don’t miss me?” 

Cristiano curls an arm around Rapha’s shoulder, pulling them close together. “Every night,” Cristiano says, low into Rapha’s ear.

Rapha sucks in a deep breath. A tinge of pleasure rushes through him. Cristiano was playing dirty. Rapha grunts in response and Cristiano laughs softly again in Rapha’s ear. He can’t think for a moment as Cristiano’s breath warms his skin. He bites his lip and hopes everyone is still ignoring them. He’s sure Cristiano looks relaxed, but he doesn’t trust himself not to look suspect. 

“How about tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow is good,” Rapha says, quickly.

Cristiano smiles and squeezes Rapha’s shoulder before he stands. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Rapha watches him leave. Bale is waiting by the door, and he and Cristiano walk out together. Rapha frowns. He meets Iker’s gaze for a moment and groans as the other man smiles knowingly at him.

 

It’s a good opportunity for him to make a move. Or that’s what he tells himself on the drive home. And it’s what he repeats as he walks into in apartment and sits on the couch staring at his phone with his shoes still on. The messaging screen is open to Cristiano’s name with the words “want to come over to mine tomorrow” sitting there next to the blinking cursor. Is it too forward? He sighs disgruntledly and throws the phone next to him on the couch before getting up to change. 

During the time it take him to swap to sweatpants and a vest, he can’t come up with any reason why he shouldn’t go for it and can think of multiple reasons (all starting with Gareth Bale) why he should. It takes him a second to hit send and another for his heart to leap into his throat. The reply comes almost immediately. He smiles at the thought that Cristiano was always on the lookout for messages from him, but nerves quickly suppress any delight. It takes several deep breaths for him to finally look at the text. It says “sure.” He doesn’t know what he expected to see. Maybe he expected Cristiano to read his mind through the phone. He chuckles at himself and opens his computer. Perhaps it was too self-conscious but he wanted, needed to prepare.

 

He’s nervous the entire next day. They only have morning practice, but he’s still worried about having time to prepare before Cristiano gets to his apartment. He manages to makes his way home, but his heart hasn’t slowed since training ended and the tight feeling in his stomach is still there as uncomfortable as ever. His backpack falls to the floor and he takes a moment to sit on the sofa, trying to breathe slowly to calm himself. It wasn’t going to do any good to lose his mind before Cristiano even got there. He smiled wryly to himself and closes his eye focusing on his breath.

 

Cristiano arrives in the late afternoon. Rapha’s managed to stop himself from doing anything ridiculous, he thinks, but then he remembers the razor and he’s not quite sure anymore. He bolts toward the door when he hears the bell, nearly crashing over the coffee table. He pauses for a moment in pain and laughs because he could only imagine what Cristiano would have said if he seriously injured himself. The smile of the laugh is still on his face when he opens the door. Cristiano returns the smile and greets him. Rapha’s smile turns suddenly shy and he steps aside quickly to allow Cristiano inside. 

Cristiano steps out of his shoes and pads over to the living room. Rapha bites his lip and follows. Cristiano has food with him in an innocuous white plastic bag that he sets on the coffee table before going into the kitchen to get two plates. A warmth spreads in Rapha’s chest at seeing Cristiano act so comfortable in his apartment. He wonders if Cristiano feels the same when he’s at his house.

“Are you just going to stand there?” 

A hand wraps around his waist and he realizes Cristiano is now behind him.

“Come on,” Cristiano says, releasing him and walking toward the couch.

Rapha obeys and follows. “I’m not hungry,” he says as Cristiano puts down the plates and begins to share out the food. There’s chicken and rice that looked like leftovers from something Cristiano’s mother cooked earlier in the week. He smiles quietly because there’s something nice about Cristiano sharing his mother’s home-cooked food with him.

Cristiano observes him strangely. “Are you sure?”

He nods even though he could definitely go for good food. He has plans and food could possibly ruin them.

“And are you just going to stare at me all night?”

It hadn’t really registered that he was staring. He blushes slightly but moves over to Cristiano. “I like looking at you.”

Cristiano’s face spreads into mischievous smile. “I like looking at you too, but I can think of better things to do than staring and they all involve you being a lot closer.” Cristiano pulls Rapha down next to him as soon as he’s within reach, and kisses him. Their lips stay connected for a long time and Rapha sighs contentedly when Cristiano pulls away.

“I missed that,” Cristiano says softly.

“Me too.” Rapha grins and Cristiano returns it before he pulls Rapha in for another deeper kiss. Rapha’s eyes close and he concentrates on the hand that runs through his hair and the arm keeping them close, Cristiano’s hard body against his own. He pushes his own hands under Cristiano’s shirt and runs them over the smooth skin of his back, pulling them even closer. He can’t get enough of the feeling of Cristiano against him, enjoys the build-up of desire in his abdomen, but he forces himself to pull away and stand. Cristiano looks up at him and the desire in his eyes makes Rapha take a deep breath. The look is for him, just him even though he’s still not sure he’s worth it. It sends a pleasant rush through him anyway.

“I want—” Rapha begins but stops. He wants to say it plainly but embarrassment is catches up with him too quickly. “Bedroom,” he says instead, offering his hand and focusing on the couch next to Cristiano instead of his face. Apparently embarrassment’s good friend incoherence was also paying a visit. 

Cristiano takes the hand and allows Rapha to pull him up. They stand there for a moment, still holding hands because Cristiano hasn’t let go, not that Rapha minds in the least. Cristiano’s hand is warm in his and the contact is as exciting as a kiss. He leads Cristiano to the bedroom, still nervous, still focusing on the hand that squeezes his briefly.

His bedroom is simple. There’s lots of space and a big bed. Cristiano’s been in this room before, of course. Cristiano’s even made him come in this bed. So maybe it shouldn’t feel like such a feat to enter the room, Cristiano’s hand in his, but it does because he’s asking Cristiano Ronaldo to have sex with him and that’s what the bed represents right now.

Rapha finally lets go of Cristiano’s hand and takes a few steps before turning around. Cristiano is looking at him from just inside the doorway as he lifts his shirt over his head. He wonders if Cristiano can hear his heart pounding. He swallows and watches Cristiano’s eyebrows go up slightly when he pulls down his sweatpants next. It crosses his mind that maybe not wearing underwear was a bit much, too wanton maybe? But Cristiano doesn’t look upset. His lips stretch into a smile but he doesn’t move. Just continues looking at Rapha. Standing naked and half-hard in front of Cristiano is nerve wracking. Another scene that’s not really new, but is amplified by the current situation. Cristiano still isn’t moving. He seems to be waiting, so Rapha approaches him. He grabs at Cristiano’s shirt and pulls it up. Cristiano lets him and raises his arms to help him take it off. 

“Not bad.”

Rapha looks up from the belt at Cristiano’s waist, still going for it with his hands. 

Cristiano understands the unspoken question and continues. “Seducing me. You’ve gotten better. Not that it’s very hard. I don’t need too much encouragement when it comes to wanting you.”

Rapha takes a deep breath, exhaling shakily. “I learned from the best.”

A chuckle is the answer and he feels the soft burst of breath on his lips before Cristiano claims them. Rapha closes his eyes, hands tightening around Cristiano’s belt that he still has to unbuckle. He forces his hands to work even as Cristiano deepens the kiss, slipping a hand behind Rapha’s head and pressing their mouths together roughly. Cristiano backs them into the bed and lets Rapha scramble up as he pulls down his jeans and his underwear, kicking them off as he joins Rapha on the bed, climbing on top of him.

Cristiano’s body is warm and smooth against his and his cock is hard against him. Rapha’s head gets lighter with pleasure by the second. Cristiano rubs against him and he moans into the mouth over his. Fucking hell was it good. Cristiano’s hands run down Rapha’s side to slip beneath his ass and grab it. Rapha presses up into him in response, letting his own hands run over Cristiano’s back and backside.

“What do you want?” Cristiano says, kissing Rapha’s jaw and throat.

“You.” His reply is automatic and breathy.

“What do you want from me?”

Rapha hesitates. Naked and grinding against Cristiano and he’s still a bit embarrassed by it. Cristiano traps an earlobe in his mouth and pulls it gently through his teeth. Rapha shivers. “I want—” He bites his lip both in pleasure and to gather courage. “I want you to fuck me.” He’s a bit shocked he managed those words, but it’s quickly irrelevant as Cristiano kisses him hard, running his tongue over the roof of Rapha’s mouth.

“Turn over,” Cristiano says pulling away to sit up.

Rapha’s breath hitches at the desire in his voice and gaze and complies hurriedly. “Um, there’s lube and . . . stuff on the table.” He groans inwardly at how inexperienced and stupid he must seem not being able to say that sentence without sounding like a virgin teenager, not that he was far from one.

He waits as Cristiano gets up to retrieve lube and a condom. Rapha takes a deep breath when the bed sinks once again under Cristiano’s weight. The moment of truth when he discovers whether the internet has led him astray. He faces the pillow underneath him and rests his forehead against it.

Cristiano’s hands rub his ass, kneading it before he pulls his cheeks open for a better view.

“Oh wow. You really went all out,“ Cristiano says.

Rapha blushes so hard it hurts and he’s suddenly thankful that Cristiano can’t see his face. He sucks in a little breath as Cristiano traces a finger around his entrance.

“I better give you a reward then.”

His eyes widen as he feels a warm kiss descend on his anus. A gasp escapes as a tongue goes over where the lips once were. It was a strange feeling but good, definitely good. Somehow it hadn’t crossed his mind to expect it. His mind somehow casually skipped over the idea of having his ass eaten. A girl he dated before had offered once. He had declined because the idea had embarrassed him, but now, as Cristiano sucks and prods against his hole, it seems like he had missed out before. He presses his face to the pillow and shudders out a moan. Cristiano’s hands massage his cheeks and move between his legs to stroke him. He reflexively moans Cristiano’s name and receives an approving hum in response. A fleeting thought that this was one more thing he had no idea how to perform himself flutters through his mind as he feels how close he was, the pleasure hot and tight intensified by lingering touches of Cristiano’s hand and the expertise of his mouth. 

Then they’re gone, the hands and mouth. He twists and looks back to see Cristiano smiling at him, the bottle of lube in his hand.

“I thought we’d try something else,” he says, eyes focusing intensely on Rapha as he squeezes lube onto his hand. 

Rapha’s breath hitches and he turns quickly so that Cristiano can’t see how his gaze unsettled him. A strange nervousness settles in. He trusts Cristiano to make him feel good, to not hurt him. He swallows and bites his lip lightly, waiting. He wasn’t dreading it. It wasn’t as much nervousness as anticipation and excitement that here he is, about to have sex with Cristiano Ronaldo, who gave head and ate ass like a god and who probably fucked like one too. He tenses up instinctively at the cool finger, which comes to press against his entrance. 

“Relax,” Cristiano says, softly kissing his ass.

Rapha blushes at his inexperience and takes deep breaths to help him relax.

“That’s better.” Cristiano’s slick finger slides in easily. 

Rapha forces himself not to tighten, allowing Cristiano move around inside him. He gets a reward when Cristiano curls his finger to gently rub his prostate. Rapha’s stifled cry comes out as a mewl but he can’t stop to be embarrassed because Cristiano is still pressing and he’s still feeling, his knees digging into the mattress. 

Cristiano releases the pressure. “I’m guessing you like that?”

Rapha’s not sure what to say so he moans out something like a yes.

“Let’s see if you can make more noises like that.”

Cristiano begins to work him open, adding fingers as Rapha accustoms to the digits inside him, thrusting and stroking to make him moan and whine. “Fucking hell,” Cristiano mutters as Rapha pushes back against the three fingers deep inside him. Rapha smiles in satisfaction at the erotic huskiness of the voice. The smile stays as he moans and presses his forehead into the pillow when Cristiano presses inside of him once more. Closer. Moment by moment and digit by digit they get closer to the main attraction that has Rapha shaking when he thinks about it. Cristiano has gone slow, taking all efforts to get Rapha ready for him. Gently but enough to distract Rapha from everything and have his cock pulsing in anticipation. 

“Ready?” Cristiano says at last. 

Rapha attempts to nod but realizes that Cristiano probably can’t see that too well. “Yeah.”

Cristiano massages his ass once more, fingers gripping his ass and rubbing. There’s the sound of a wrapper opening and a hand slides to the small of his back, then he feels it, Cristiano’s cock pressing against his entrance. He tenses a bit. Cristiano slides his hand up and down his back. “Relax,” he says, voice soft and coaxing. 

Rapha breaths in and out slowly, releasing the tension in his muscles so that Cristiano can begin to push inside, inch by tantalizing, agonizing inch. He’d always thought “filled up” seemed like a bad analogy for penetration during sex, made it sound more like a pump and football than sex. But it’s what comes to mind when Cristiano is pressed against him, all the way in. Maybe those girls had a point with the metaphor. 

Cristiano asks if he’s ok and he breathes out a shaky affirmative. It’s still somewhat painful, but the thought that Cristiano is inside him, stretching him, is so erotic he can barely handle it. His toes curl, digging into the sheets as Cristiano begins to move. He pulls out slowly and slides back in. Rapha is breathing heavily and grasping at the pillow beneath his head. His back curves in response to Cristiano’s movement. 

It’s so much more intense that he was expecting and he’s not really surprised because there wasn’t really a gauge of something like this. But he does know he likes it, this feeling inside him and the hands gripping his hips and the light creak of the bed. His breath comes in short, light gasps as Cristiano increases his pace, first shallow and then deep, so deep. He moans Cristiano’s name, long and drawn out in a partial whine. 

His body is on fire, slick with sweat and he can feel everything: the sheets chafing his knees and the light squeeze in the tips of his fingers as he grasps at the surface of the bed. And it all goes straight between his legs. His hand follows and he fumbles with his own erection as he trembles with pleasure. Cristiano’s fingers dig deeper into his hips and Rapha can tell he’s close. One thrust, two and then he goes still, coming with a groan. Rapha can feel himself shaking now as Cristiano slides out. He feels like he’s going to tip over, but Cristiano is there with an arm holding him up and a hand joining his own between his legs. He relinquishes to Cristiano’s hand and groans as he’s finished off, coming into Cristiano’s hand. Then he collapses when Cristiano releases him. He lies on his side, breath still ragged. He can still feel where Cristiano had been inside him, the memory of the stretch still in his muscles. 

He barely registers when Cristiano gets up, just notices when he slides in behind him.

“How are you?” Cristiano kisses his ear and neck and cheek. His breath smells like mouthwash.

Rapha smiles tiredly. “Good. Really good.” 

Cristiano kisses him again on the side of the mouth. He wrestles the comforter from the foot of the bed and covers them both. 

It’s warm and Cristiano is pressed flush against his back and Rapha vaguely wonders whether they should take a shower and change the sheets and maybe finally eat something. But then spooning with his boyfriend is really comfortable and he’s more than a little bit tired, what after all the nervousness and, well, sex. Sex. It feels a bit surreal that he’s lying here basking in the glow of having sex with Cristiano Ronaldo and maybe he should savour that a bit more. So he lies there and sighs as Cristiano lazily drags a finger up and down his stomach with his forehead against Rapha’s hair so he can feel the breath on the back of his neck. He finally remembers the whole catalyst to this moment, some sort of ridiculous jealousy of Gareth Bale. If he tells the truth he’s still jealous, but maybe he has to thank Bale too, for flirting shamelessly. After all, he gave him whatever (possibly misguided) courage he had needed to end up right where he is.


End file.
